Epidemic
by RosieO'Hara
Summary: An Epidemic hits Hogwarts just before Christmas Break and strikes at the most unsuspected people. It leaves them in the care of an unsuspecting person as a snow storm isolates them from the rest of the wizarding world. Set in the Philosopher's Stone. Sick/Snape, Harry, and McGonagall.
1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape was not having a good day. Not that he had many good days, honestly, but this was one of his worst. It was an unusually cold December day just before Christmas Holidays at Hogwarts. The students were not paying any attention to classes and making first year mistakes all day. He had no less than six cauldrons melt and spread acidic potions across tables and the stone floor, but he also had a thick purple fog fill his class during the fourth year class that made half of the class seriously nauseous and the other half with boils on their skin. His fifth year class involved being covered in mandrake piss when he opened the stock rooms and the vials fell off the shelf. Now, just before his last class of the day, his second years, he was feeling exhausted, irritated, and severely sorry for the next person to make a potions mistake and face his wrath. He had no hope, his next class had the Weasley twins and every dunderheaded blithering Hufflepuff.

He sat his desk in the front of the class trying to grade essays, but succeeding in only staring at Crabbe's horrible hand writing and trying not to scream, fall asleep on his papers, or kill the next person who walked through the door. He decided to take a break and put his quill down and the papers in a neat stack inside his desk just before the first pack of Hufflepuffs walked into his class. He had the potion supplies and directions distributed already, so he waited for the last student to sit before starting, 'If you would be so kind as to sit down Miss Earlywine and cease talking, you all can start the Pepper-Up potion. Just try not to utterly destroy it in the process. Any talking, melting cauldrons, or harmful fumes will not only result in a failing grade, but also a weeks worth of detention with Filch, right after break. Start!" Snape scathed.

The class wasn't a total disaster, Lee Jordan's potion was a sickening pink colour, but nothing had exploded, fumed, melted, or caused any harm to the class, yet. Most of the Gryffindors and half of the Hufflepuff's had finished and left the class, only three were left. Johnson, McFeerman, and O'Tomlunsin sat in different corners of the dungeon room. Johnson's potion looked chunky, Mcfeerman's was smoking a thick black cloud, but it wasn't harmful unless you count itchy eyes harmful, and O'Tomlunsin's looked just about right if he adds the last ingredient right.

Snape got up to collect the last vials of the potions as class ended and felt his headache increase, his stomach jump in protest, and his hands to become clammy. He willed himself to keep his stride intimidating and the rest of his body to follow suit. None of the students seemed to notice anything off about their least favourite professor, either from intense fear of the man or intense hate or both. They were all eager to get out of the class without losing more house points or gaining another detention and essay.

He waved his wand across the room and it began to clean itself, before he sat on his desk and tired to keep the meager contents of his lunch down. It was official his body was waging war on itself. Prompted by the lack of sleep, copious amounts of caffeine, or the fact that he hadn't exercised in at least a month his body is rebelling in a strange way. Illness. Whether it was a head cold, the flu, or something he picked up from one of his notoriously disgusting students Snape had decided it had to leave. This instant.

He took his cloak, opened the door to his private quarters and promptly fell asleep on his couch. His sleep was fitful, per the norm. He twisted and turned on the hard couch wildly, miraculously not falling off, for hours. His hair stuck to his forehead from a cold sweat, his cloak was twisted uncomfortable around his arms and chest, while leaving his feet cold. However, worst of all was his complexion; his face was sickly grey colour, dark bags had formed below his eyes, his nose turned red and slightly inflamed, and his lips became chapped from dehydration and congested snoring.

Little did he know, but he slept through dinner, through his house meeting, through his shift of patrolling the halls, through the night, and breakfast the next day. He only woke when an owl bit his finger in anger for not being paid for delivering the Daily Profit. 'Ouch, you wretched animal!' he shouted at the owl that just lunged forward to take another bite out of his finger. He recoiled and put a few sickels into the pouch before running into his loo.

'I look like I was regurgitated from Hagrid's bloody dog.' He said before showering, shaving, and changing in hopes of shaking the deathly pallour. He looked slightly better, but he felt worse. His body was wreaked with chills, dizzy spells and aches that covered his entire body. The light burned his eyes and caused him to feel like he was going to be sick, and his robes felt constrictive on his neck and swollen glands. He cast a quick glamour before starting for the staff room to fetch some tea and some toast before his first and only class of the day, First years.

The corridors were empty of students because they were all in class or outside in the freshly falling snow that left Hogwarts with the most snow in years. He walked slowly and without purpose up the stairs and through archways, doorways and portrait holes. The staff room was warm and mostly empty besides Binns and Flirtwick. Neither would speak much to him because one was dead boring, literally, and the other left Severus alone ever since commented on the height difference.

He sat in his usual high backed chair near the fire and ate quietly. Ignoring the glances he got from his coworkers because he missed two meals in a row, which was not uncommon, but combine it with a chance to take points away and yell at students for breaking curfew, that was unheard of and concerning to them. He crossed his legs, took out his copy of The Daily Profit and started to read.

He ran out of luck halfway through the hour, Minerva, walked in and spotted him, "Severus," she started sitting down on the couch next to his chair, "good to see you are alive still. We all hate it when you disappear without notice."

"Well, yes, I am alive. Astute observation. No need to worry, now if you excuse me, I have a class of incompetent first years to teach." he stated tersely before fleeing the room. Minerva always pried into his life, no matter how annoying or inopportune it was.

Unluckily enough for him, she followed him out of the room, "Severus, I think we all know why you were gone. You know it is not permissible to leave Hogwarts' grounds on school nights without telling Albus or myself. Don't do it again." She said before stalking off to yell at some unsuspecting Gryffindors that were throwing snow inside the hall to the south.

He let out a sigh of unbelief combined with relief. No one had noticed, they thought I just was summoned or went off campus, not passed out dead on my couch. Thank Merlin.

He headed down to his drafty class room just in time for the first group of young Ravenclaws entered through the doors and sat down in the front tables, leaving the ones furthest from his desk open for the Hufflepuffs who wished to be as far away from the Professor as humanly possible.

"Sit with someone from another house. Perhaps the Ravenclaws can stop you Hufflepuffs from blowing up the whole classroom and killing us all." he sneered taking his seat at the head of the tables and letting his eyes roam as the first years started to make their potions.

Halfway through the lesson he felt his throat close up as his lungs try to clear themselves. His face grew red as he tried not to cough, but he soon lost the battle when his diaphragm revolted. He turned to his desk, buried his face in the sleeve of his black robes and hacked loudly for a good fifteen or twenty seconds, bending at his waist and wincing at the lack of air in his lungs and painful contractions of his abdomen. He pulled in a deep breath and sighed when it didn't cause him to hack again. He turned around to see at no less than twenty first years staring at him with eyes full of concern or amazement that he is human. He sneered back before sitting behind his desk and pulling out his newspaper.

The class ended with no major mishaps and signaled the end of classes for him until the new term in January. He cleaned the workspaces, sorted his desk out, and drank a vial of pepper-up potion before heading up to lunch in the Great Hall.


	2. Chapter 2

Little did he know, but he slept through dinner, through his house meeting, through his shift of patrolling the halls, through the night, and breakfast the next day. He only woke when an owl bit his finger in anger for not being paid for delivering the Daily Profit. 'Ouch, you wretched animal!' he shouted at the owl that just lunged forward to take another bite out of his finger. He recoiled and put a few sickels into the pouch before running into his loo.  
'I look like I was regurgitated from Hagrid's bloody dog.' He said before showering, shaving, and changing in hopes of shaking the deathly pallour. He looked slightly better, but he felt worse. His body was wreaked with chills, dizzy spells and aches that covered his entire body. The light burned his eyes and caused him to feel like he was going to be sick, and his robes felt constrictive on his neck and swollen glands. He cast a quick glamour before starting for the staff room to fetch some tea and some toast before his first and only class of the day, First years.  
The corridors were empty of students because they were all in class or outside in the freshly falling snow that left Hogwarts with the most snow in years. He walked slowly and without purpose up the stairs and through archways, doorways and portrait holes. The staff room was warm and mostly empty besides Binns and Flirtwick. Neither would speak much to him because one was dead boring, literally, and the other left Severus alone ever since commented on the height difference.  
He sat in his usual high backed chair near the fire and ate quietly. Ignoring the glances he got from his coworkers because he missed two meals in a row, which was not uncommon, but combine it with a chance to take points away and yell at students for breaking curfew, that was unheard of and concerning to them. He crossed his legs, took out his copy of The Daily Profit and started to read.  
He ran out of luck halfway through the hour, Minerva, walked in and spotted him, "Severus," she started sitting down on the couch next to his chair, "good to see you are alive still. We all hate it when you disappear without notice."  
"Well, yes, I am alive. Astute observation. No need to worry, now if you excuse me, I have a class of incompetent first years to teach." he stated tersely before fleeing the room. Minerva always pried into his life, no matter how annoying or inopportune it was.  
Unluckily enough for him, she followed him out of the room, "Severus, I think we all know why you were gone. You know it is not permissible to leave Hogwarts' grounds on school nights without telling Albus or myself. Don't do it again." She said before stalking off to yell at some unsuspecting Gryffindors that were throwing snow inside the hall to the south.  
He let out a sigh of unbelief combined with relief. No one had noticed, they thought I just was summoned or went off campus, not passed out dead on my couch. Thank Merlin.  
He headed down to his drafty class room just in time for the first group of young Ravenclaws entered through the doors and sat down in the front tables, leaving the ones furthest from his desk open for the Hufflepuffs who wished to be as far away from the Professor as humanly possible.  
"Sit with someone from another house. Perhaps the Ravenclaws can stop you Hufflepuffs from blowing up the whole classroom and killing us all." he sneered taking his seat at the head of the tables and letting his eyes roam as the first years started to make their potions.  
Halfway through the lesson he felt his throat close up as his lungs try to clear themselves. His face grew red as he tried not to cough, but he soon lost the battle when his diaphragm revolted. He turned to his desk, buried his face in the sleeve of his black robes and hacked loudly for a good fifteen or twenty seconds, bending at his waist and wincing at the lack of air in his lungs and painful contractions of his abdomen. He pulled in a deep breath and sighed when it didn't cause him to hack again. He turned around to see at no less than twenty first years staring at him with eyes full of concern or amazement that he is human. He sneered back before sitting behind his desk and pulling out his newspaper.  
The class ended with no major mishaps and signaled the end of classes for him until the new term in January. He cleaned the workspaces, sorted his desk out, and drank a vial of pepper-up potion before heading up to lunch in the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was surprisingly empty for lunch, Snape suspected the students that were normally there at that time decided to go to Hogsmeade or pack instead and opted to take a sandwich on the go. The head table, on the other hand was packed seeing as though most professor had their last classes of the day already and wished to start preparing of the holidays or grade the term's tests.  
He stalked up to the table, ignoring the whispers he heard from the tables and was happy to see a light lunch of chicken soup and ham sandwiches. He sat in his corner hoping Minerva and Poppy stayed far away from him so they didn't notice anything off. That was the last thing he needed, two overly concerned women fawning over him all of Christmas break. No thank you. The pure thought of it made his stomach churn and face scowl.  
He ate half a bowl of soup and a few bites of sandwich before pushing himself up and leaving to retire to his corridors before he has to accompany Slytherin House to the train in three hours. He had no students staying in the dungeons, so that meant he had practically free reign of the whole section of the castle mostly to himself. The few students that were staying for the holidays were either in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Potter and Longbottom were staying to his great dismay and one Ravenclaw is staying until Christmas day wherein her family will be back in England and she can take the floo home.  
He set alarm to wake him at two and promptly fell into bed. He was asleep shortly after his head hit the pillow.  
The annoying buzz of his alarm woke him as promised. He rolled out of bed, pulled a brush through his hair, drank another pepper-up potion, reapplied his glamour and set out for the Slytherin Common Room. His house was the smallest of the four and the best disciplined. All students were packed and had their luggage transferred to the Hogwarts Express already and were milling around the common room waiting to disperse. The first years were talking in the corner about their Christmas plans. The older years were all talking about how their terms went and what they were dreading for the new year, namely the complete terror that will undoubtedly happen to the Defense professor before the end of the year, as per tradition.  
For the past four years every single one of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers had something detrimental happen to them. Family deaths, severe allergic reactions, complete incompetence leading to relentless teasing and pranks from both students and teachers, and finally the last professor slipped from the top of the icy Owlery and was never quite the same. Quirrell was just a bumbling idiot that was doomed to never return to Hogwarts as a teacher again. The position was cursed, but Dumbledore refused to let him teach it because he was too 'Dark' for Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
"Slytherin House, we will be leaving in a minute, but I must wish you all a Happy Christmas and hope you all return to me in one piece and a slight bit more intelligent. Prefects, you may lead them to the train, I will follow behind you." He said, keeping the sentimental goodbye as short as possible. No one said emotions were his thing.  
They all flowed out of the room in their groups with the sixth and seventh years leading or following the group making sure none of the other students fell behind. Snape smiled a rare smile. He had changed the Slytherin house from a cold group into a pseudo family that cared and looked out for each other because no one else at the school was inclined to do so because they were an isolated house.  
His head started to pound as he became more congested and tired as the whole day took a toll on him. His whole body cried for sleep and he fought to keep his eyes open and his limbs moving until he could return to his quarters. His house moved quickly to the train station because it was bitterly cold that day and the wind was blowing small ice pellets into their skin that stung and bit into their cheeks.  
Snape was glad that he didn't run into another Professor on the way down because he was sure his body was noticeably shivering in the wind. He trailed far enough behind his house that no one noticed anything really off about him. His students arrived first, a few boarded the train in hopes of getting the best seats, but some stopped by to wish him a Happy Christmas or to wait for other students to arrive, mainly the Ravenclaws who were the most tolerable of the Slytherins. A few students were on talking terms with the Weasley twins because they were pureblooded and they were quite the cunning bunch, but most of his house were not friends with any other students from Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, thank Merlin.  
He saw that his students were in good hands once Hagrid showed up, so he turned on his heel and trudged up to the school slowly, taking the less known route, so that he didn't run into anyone else. His head was pounding and he had lost all feeling in his hands and feet a good quarter hour ago as his feet crunched up the snow covered ground on the forlorn path. The trees on either side shielded him from the wind, and he knew that the walk would take another ten minutes of walking at the pace he was going up hill to the castle. He could have went directly to the dungeons from his quarters personal doors, but that was located on the wrong side of the hill to be effective.  
His limbs felt dull and heavy and the cold air sucked the warmth from his clothes and soaked deep into his bones the longer he stayed out in it. He pulled his black cloak closer to his body as he tried to conserve heat. His nausea came back as he came to the small creek that split the path in two. It wasn't large and was easily crossable on foot, so he prepared to leap across the small divot. He bent his knees and leapt forward, feet slipping on the icy frozen ground and not gaining enough height to match his velocity and weight and he didn't make the jump. He landed half on the path on the other side and half on the creek bank that sloped down into the creek. His stomach landed on a large stone that drove the air out of his lungs and caused his diaphragm to contract painfully for the second time that day and his head whacked against the tree on the side of the path, leaving a sizable welt and shallow gash on the left side of his face. He didn't lose consciousness when he hit his head or when he had the wind ripped from his lungs, but he was dazed and sat on the ground for a good two minutes before dizzily standing up and walking slowly towards the castle. His walk was slightly disorientated and crooked, but he made it to the courtyard that was thankfully empty before heading to the nearest loo to fix his head.  
He turned the corner and felt like a missile hit him, he lost his footing on the wet stone tiles and fell. He felt and heard his head crash onto the hard floor with a bolt of pain and a sickening crack before everything faded black slowly blotting out the small figure above him that was asking questions at a spit fire rate. He finally succumbed to the soft waves of black that were pulling him in and shut his eyes as his mind melted away from his body into the soft void in such inconvenience.

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**Note from Rosie- Ok, so don't hate me for the cliff hanger or the summary that seems like it is wrong. Trust me, it is right, but we will get there in the next chapter. I wish to thank all of my reviewers and followers and well... Everyone, so TA! Love ya, Rosie!**

**P.S.- I've lived in Canada, England, and Ireland; therefore, my figures of speech might be confusing and everything so if anyone is confused on what I mean just PM or review and I will understand because I may not know I am putting something confusing to readers in my stories ... so yeah don't worry I get it ALL THE TIME.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Welcome Back! So Christmas has passed for yet another year, so a belated Happy Christmas! And Happy Boxing Day as well! I hope everyone had a safe and fun holidays! Here is the next chapter for you! I would also like to thank all of my reviewers and followers because you just make my day so much better! TA!-Rosie**

P.S.-Sorry it's late. It turns out that the middle of nowhere Scotland has terrible internet service. I should have known.

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"Hell! Sir? Professor, are you ok? I am so sorry! Sir?" Harry Potter stuttered, flattening his unruly hair with his hand. He was in huge trouble. Snape was really going to kill him for this one! He looked down at the big bat lying on the slushy ground and ran into the Great Hall. It was strange for it to seem so empty, but there was Professor McGonagall walking through the doors after taking waiting for the train to leave.

"Professor! It's Snape, he needs help!" Harry spurted out to his Head of House. She started to walk briskly towards him, fearing the worst for her most accident prone colleague.

"Where?" She asked following him at the fastest speed possible.

"The Courtyard, he slipped the ice and hit his head." Harry said as they neared the courtyard. He could see the black figure marring the tan stone tiles that made up the floor.

"Severus? Can you hear us?" McGonagall asked, shaking his shoulder. She received no response.

"Harry, I'm taking him to the Hospital Wing, you can return to Gryffindor Tower or find Mr. Longbottom," She said after levitating Snape.

"Thanks, Professor. I think I will see if Neville wants to play a game of Exploding Snap." Harry said, hurrying away from Snape before he woke up and tired to strangle him and use him in his next potions class.

McGonagall hurried to the hospital wing with Professor Snape, hoping that her snaky friend was going to be fine. The gash on his head had stopped bleeding and marred his face with dried blood and a growing bruise, but his face had lost its entire colour, not that he had much to begin with, his lips were turning slightly purple, and he looked like he was freezing. She cast a warming charm on him and walked into the Hospital Wing.

Poppy was in her office organizing her potions closet when McGonagall walked in. "Poppy, Severus seems to have taken a tumble on the ice. He is out cold and I didn't want to enervate him or anything until I had your opinion," McGonagall said, putting Severus on the closest bed to the heaters. His colour was looking more grey than purple, but he still looked frozen through.

"Minerva, I'm going to cast a diagnostic on him and get him into some warmer clothes. You might want to ask Filch to de-ice the corridors."

Poppy shooed McGonagall out of the room and went back to Severus. She cast a diagnostic on her most frequent patient and found that he has been hiding things for quite a long while, no surprise.

He had a mild concussion, two swelling bruises on his head, and the beginnings of what seemed to be the muggle flu or upper respiratory infection.

Poppy sighed and waved her wand to change him into the dark grey night clothes he left with her to keep. She placed a healing slave on his cuts and bruises dimmed the lights in the room.

"Enervate," she stated as she grabbed the potions she was going to force down his throat. He let out a small groan as he shifted into a sitting position, "Fuck," he muttered.

"Mr. Snape, that is no kind of language I need to be hearing, but yes, 'fuck' is right. You never come for help when I can actually do anything for you."

"I was busy. Now, I feel fine, so I'll be leaving now." He said, swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

"No, you won't be leaving until you can actually breathe out of your nose. Sit down and drink your bloody potions and then you can go back to sleep." She reprimanded before muttering something that sounded strangely like 'stubborn git.'

He grumbled but knew that he had no chance on escaping the ward because she has confiscated his robes, and in turn his wand. He also knew that she would not hesitate to magically bind him to his bed as she has done before. He knew she would also hunt him down and drag him back by his ear if he did manage to leave the large room.

He sat on his bed, his head pounding and chest hurting, but feeling slightly warmer than he was in the walk back from the train.

Poppy entered his ward with her box of potions. He knew what each did, every ingredient and when each were made. She handed him a pepper up potion, a head clearing vial, a fever reducer, a mild pain reliever, and a dreamless sleep.

"Poppy, I don't have a fever." He stated simply before drinking the vile potions.

"You will once you warm up from being frozen outside. Drink it now before you go delirious on me. Just do it and drink the dreamless sleep too, you are severely exhausted."

He sighed, "Fine." He admitted defeat and brought the final two vials to his lips before swallowing them. The dreamless sleep tastes like pleasant peppermint, but the fever reducer tasted like burnt broccoli, so the two combined was not exactly appetizing. He chugged the water Poppy handed him after seeing the face he pulled from the taste. He felt the world dulling and his breathing deepen as his muscles relax and his mind falls into a deep sleep.

Poppy smiles, pulls the thick duvet across his chest, pulls the curtains around his bed closed, and retired to her office to send a memo to Minerva through the floo network. She updated Minerva on Severus and told her to keep an eye on the students to see if any fell ill on them.

She didn't have to worry about many of the professors falling ill because most went home following the departure of the Hogwarts Express. Only the Heads of House, Hagrid, and Filch stayed at Hogwarts for the Holidays. Dumbledore was at a meeting for the Wizengamot in Dublin and would stay there until after the New Year.

With Snape ill the students of Slytherin would traditionally be under the charge of Flitwick and the Ravenclaws because they could stand each other the most, but because there were no Slytherins staying for Holiday at Hogwarts that was not an issue. However; finding someone who had time to brew the potions for next term would be if Severus didn't get back on his feet in a few days. Being Mid-December, they did have loads of time off before term started in the second week of January, but most of the potions they needed had a brewing time of a few weeks depending on the cycle of the moon and however many days it needed to simmer for.

If Snape was ill for more than a week, which was highly unlikely, the Hogwarts Hospital Wing would, with no doubt, be in deep shit if they had any rush of flu, Dragon Pox, or accident prone children in need of medicine, especially if it involved re-growing bones, pain reducer, or blood replenishers.


	4. Chapter 4

Minerva spent the rest of the day grading essays on the wand movements in transfiguration involving wooden material. The Castle was oddly quiet, even for the Holidays. Generally they had at least one Weasley, but they all went home this break, and they had an odd dozen or two staying for at least part of the holiday, but this year less than five were staying. Meaning that the castle only had nine inhabitants, not counting house elves, ghosts, or portraits.  
The castle was cold and the snow piled on the frozen ground, making the whole place a winter wonderland. The apparition point was now covered in a good thirty centimetres of fresh snow, effectively blocking off travel to and from the castle unless it was through the outer school floo, which was limited to Dumbledore's office now that the school was closed. The regular professor's floos were only for moving quickly through the school unless specified by Dumbledore, who was not here.  
Her quarters were drafty and cold, but she did feel a headache and cold coming on. She didn't want to spend the rest of the holidays grading the papers she had left, so she ignored her symptoms until she finished her marking. She had a pile of sappy romances and adventure novels she had acquired throughout the summer she never got to reading and this break would be the perfect opportunity with Sev sick because she wouldn't have anyone to play chess or Gobstones with.  
Flitwick stayed in his quarters or the library most of holiday researching new charms and reacquainting himself with the new practices of the other wizarding schools. Hagrid was no doubt in the forest or roaming the grounds helping his creatures through the harsh weather. Poppy and Snape were stuck in the infirmary until he escapes (Highly unlikely) or recovers enough to be let go. The students would roam around in the castle with Filch running after them like an over grown gerbil.  
Her marking came to an end around eight that night after eating dinner in her quarters. She left the essays on the desk, grabbed her heavy afghan, trudged over to her couch by the roaring fire, and opened the first book, a trashy muggle romance that was so awful it had her in stitches by the end of the third chapter.

Severus woke late the next morning to a surprise. He felt hot, sticky, congested, itchy, and utterly exhausted despite the dreamless sleep and other potions. He knew that the potions could treat symptoms but not the illness itself and he waited too long to give his body time to fight the infections before they developed into something else, something untreatable by magic. That was his problem, he waited too long for an easy fix, so he always had to wait and heal the muggle way with time and pain.  
He trudged to the small toilet in the corner of the airy room and was greeted by a coughing fit brought about by sheer exhaustion and over exertion. His bare feet felt icy against the cold stone floor. He opened the door to the loo and instantly saw himself in the mirror. His face was void of all colour with the exception of his cheeks that were flushed with fever. His eyes were blood shot and slightly glassy. His skin was dry and chapped around his nose. So basically, he looked like he felt- a ruddy mess.  
He finished in the bathroom and padded out back to his curtained-off bed. Poppy was setting up his potions next to his breakfast tray. The elves made him fresh oatmeal and toast to go with a full glass of orange juice; however, none of it looked exactly appetizing.  
"How are you faring today?" Poppy asked running diagnostics on him.  
He questioned a lie, but knew he would've been caught anyways. May as well be truthful and save the pain of being scalded at by an old woman. He used to be a death-eater for Merlin's sake.  
"Worse. Just worse."  
"How so?" She prompted.  
"I know I've got a fever, I'm dizzy, I got exhausted walking no more than ten metres, I feel like something is clawing its way through my throat and that someone has thrown itching powder in my shirt." He grumbled hoarsely before scratching his chest.  
She batted his hand away, "Do NOT scratch. Unbutton your shirt so I can see if it is a rash I can fix. The rest of it is just going to have to run its course naturally. You know the drill."  
He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it open to see small red blisters sprinkling his collar bones and right shoulder. Some were oozing from where he scratched at them and the others looked angry red.  
"Merlin, Severus was that there yesterday? I don't even know what that is! It cannot be the chicken Pox or really any other Pox because you've had them all or were vaccinated against them as a child." She gasped, lifting his shirt off all the way to see if they had spread anywhere else.  
They seemed localized to the right side of his chest, but it certainly didn't look good for him if he wanted to get out of the Hospital Wing anytime soon.  
"Well, I will look around in some of the Healer's books I have around here and see what this could be. Just drink your potions and eat as much as you can and I'll come back with a few books or something to keep you from blowing up the whole school." Poppy said patting his hand before scurrying off to dig out the old books. Whatever Severus had it was most likely muggle.  
Many of the muggle born or half bloods often got muggle illnesses, like the flu, strep throat, and mono; however, she has had some more bizarre cases come through the doors of the Hospital Wing, involving a few muggle medical books hidden away in the cupboard out of many years of disuse.  
She opened the door and crouched down, 'ACHOO!' the dust in few up in the air when she opened the door. She waited for the air to clear before casting a cleaning spell on the pile of books and journals she had collected throughout the years of being a Healer.  
She looked for the few muggle ones she had and pulled them out, Grey's Anatomy and a book published by the CDC in 1987.  
She went back into the main room and handed one of the books to Severus.  
"You can read some if you want. Look for anything that fits. I don't want to give you anything yet because I don't know how this will react." She said, pulling up a chair and opening her book.  
She read for about an hour when she was disturbed by a soft snoring. She looked to see Severus asleep, book limp in his hands. She gently lifted the book away and lay it on the nightstand. She put her hand on the mans brow to be greeted by hot skin. Mid-grade fever, then. She checked his chest again and found that the blisters were forming outwards from a small cut in the skin, she originally thought was from him scratching, but it was older than the blister, a few days at least. So he had an infection of sorts.  
Midway through the day Minerva showed up, dark circles under her eyes. "Minnie, what's wrong?"  
"I've got the flu."  
Great, there is now two of them.

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**SOOO! Thanks for reading! I hoped you liked it. I love it when you all review and favourite or follow! Love you all! -Rosie.**

**Do you know what he has?**


	5. Chapter 5

Hello again! Sorry this took so long to upload. I got swept up in the SHERLOCK hype and then I flew into Chicago for family stuff and was preoccupied. It is currently -23C here. I am freezing my arse off, but at least I found internet to connect with! Thanks again for the reviews, Favourites, Follows, etc. Love you all- Rosie.

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Minnie settled in further down the row, accepting her potions and falling asleep soon afterwards. Snape was sitting in his bed, marking papers with angry red ink without mercy, per his usual. The medical books were strewn on the nightstand, currently forgotten in favour of work. He looked more rested, but his fever had climbed higher throughout the day and he often erupted into coughing fits, making Madame Pomfrey slightly worried.  
"Severus, go to sleep!" She reprimanded after a particularly rough sounding series of coughs.  
"When I'm finished I will sleep, promise." He rasped back before turning back to his marking.  
"No. You will sleep or I will take everything away from you until I let you leave. I've done it before and I can most definitely do it now, you miserable sodding man." Poppy said, handing him his potions and prying the essays from his hands.  
"Fine." he fumed, rolling on his side and mumbling something around the lines of 'meddling old woman.'  
The next morning with her two 'patients' asleep she turned back to her medical books. His symptoms pointed to something that was introduced through that cut and spurred symptoms similar to a flu. She looked at anything that he could have caught from being outside in the snow and anything common in damp, dark, and cold places (the dungeons). She didn't find anything matching the symptoms there, or with any common infections from the UK.  
"Maybe he caught something from one of his potions ingredients and it won't show up on his diagnostics."  
She looked for the section with infections from Fungi. The first few pages held nothing, unless he turned orange in the next day or two… nope. She turned the page and gasped. She had found it. Mucormycosis. It was a rare infection caused by a Fungi that was often found in damp or rotten wood and soils. Its common symptoms include lung infections, fever, headache, dizziness, coughing; and if introduced through the skin, blisters, swelling, and dying tissues. It fit everything. He must have been cut when a caldron exploded his potions cabinet and the fungi was present. It must have infected his chest first and made itself present in the form of a bad cold before showing its other symptoms.  
It was commonly treated with anti-fungal medicines, but she read on and took a deep breath. The book read, 'has a fifty percent mortality rate.'  
Fifty percent chance that he would die, she read over again. She took a another deep breath and focussed on finding a cure inside the castle. Severus was, no doubt, the first wizard in many many many years to have contracted the disease, so she did not know if there was a wizarding cure or if she would have to somehow find a muggle cure and hope to Merlin that it worked.  
The castle kept normal medicines from the muggles on hand in case of emergency, but she doubted paracetamol would help much. She needed heavy duty antibiotics, and the only place she was going to get that was at a muggle hospital.  
"Filius," She called through the floo network, "can you come here. We seem to have an issue."  
"Of course, Poppy," The small wizard said, "I will be there in five minutes. I've just got to finish this letter and I will be there."  
"Thank you."  
She checked on Minny, who had woken feeling much better and cured by a little bit of pepper up and a good few hours of sleep.  
"You can leave whenever, but I do need to speak to all of you and I did call Filius up here, you if you wouldn't mind to stay here until he arrives I would appreciate it." Poppy said, before heading over to wake Snape.  
He looked paler, more gaunt, and more horrid than his usual demeanour. She felt terrible when she reached over and shook his good shoulder to wake him, "Severus." She said as he rolled out of her touch.  
"Severus, wake up. I know what you have, and we have a gigantic problem," She said as he finally opened his eyes and groaned as Filius walked into the ward.  
She handed him a glass of water and Minerva handed him the potions Poppy had brought with her.  
"What is the problem, surely this is something curable." He said, knowing that anything he had was not a) cancer, b) sexually transmitted, or c) horrifically disgusting. Usually 'c' resulted in something bad, like death, and he has seen his fair share of gross things to know that what he had caught doesn't fit entirely in that description.  
"Well, yes it is curable, but the problem is we don't have anything in the castle to cure it with. Unless you can mysteriously brew some strong antibiotics then, no. You need muggle medicine, which under normal circumstances, shouldn't be hard to obtain; however, the floo network was shut off from outside campus and it is still a bloody blizzard outside. I am going to try to owl Dumbledore and leave through his floo, but if worse comes to worse I am going to have to apparate from Hogsmeade."  
He sighed, "what is it exactly?"  
"Mucormycosis. It is extremely rare, but you must have been infected through your potions ingredients because it is caused by a fungi found in soils and damp or decaying woods. It explains the flu-like symptoms and the blisters. We can treat it with antibiotics, but I will have to remove the infected skin to be 100% sure that it doesn't spread. Severus, the worst part is that," she took another breath and tried to keep calm and strong, "that… that it has a 50% mortality rate."  
"Merlin really has it in for me." Was the only she received for a full minute. Minerva and Filius were both shocked and left the ward with reassuring pats to Severus's hand.  
"The good news is that we can isolate the infection and that we caught it early. You are strong and reasonably healthy so that should help tremendously. If I do not have a response from Albus by tomorrow morning I am going to Hogsmeade." She says.  
"Yes, well, yes. Good. Thank you." Snape says rubbing his hand though his hair.  
"Do you need anything before I leave to message Albus?" She asks.  
"No. I'm fine. I will just go back to marking and hopefully finish that before I take a nap," He says grabbing his quill and the essays.  
She wasn't going to tell him no because, clearly he was as rested as he was going to get, and he promised to rest afterwards.  
She left the ward and nearly mowed Filius over. "Poppy, how is he… with all of this?" He asked with genuine concern.  
Snape was not the most charismatic member of the staff but he was a good teacher and he was many years younger than most of the staff, so they saw him as a younger brother or son to them. It was the fact that he had no family that anyone knew of and he always preferred to be lonely and quiet that drew everyone to care as much as they did for him.  
He wasn't as spiky and mean to teachers when no students were around. It was his façade that kept his students in line and the Slytherin's thinking that he was Death Eater material so that they can relay it to their parents.  
Minerva's eyes were slightly puffy and lacking sheen, while Filius was very serious looking compared to his usual hyper-active free soul demeanour.  
"I don't know. He seems to be taking it well. I'm sure it is just shock right now. I assured him I would do everything and anything I can do to help him. I also told him that he is strong and will most likely pull through."  
Minerva let out a sigh, "I am going to see If I can get Harry and Neville a place to stay, just in case. Their guardians will not care after we explain. I was thinking that they could stay with the Weasleys."  
"No, they should stay here. On rare cases it can be contagious. I want them to stay here so we can monitor them to see if anyone will get sick. I will let Filius' Ravenclaw leave as scheduled because she hasn't come in contact with Professor Snape and could not have contracted the disease."  
Minerva nodded, "All right, but I am going to tell them to stay away from the hospital wing. I trust you are sending an owl to Albus?"  
"Certainly. I am also going to leave campus tomorrow afternoon or sooner to find him medicine." She said, "When I leave if one of you would stay watch with him it would be much appreciated."  
They both nodded and left in separate directions. Filius to go back to the library and Minerva to go talk to Harry and Neville.  
She re-entered the ward and spotted Snape asleep, with papers splaying over his legs and quill leaving a red mark on the sheets. She ordered the essays and set them on the table and vanished the splotch.  
She did another diagnostic and saw that his fever was rising again. It was now at 38.5. She spelled some potions into his stomach before closing the draperies and leaving the room quietly. Snape slept the rest of the day and Poppy still had no reply from Albus. She sighed and went to bed.

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Yay! So Severus is in bad sort, but don't worry too much. I hope you liked it and I think I will be able to upload again when I get back to London and 'warmth' in 3 days.-Rosie


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